


Contingency

by femmenerd



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen, POV Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-19
Updated: 2009-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-12 03:17:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1181260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/femmenerd/pseuds/femmenerd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-<i>Star Trek</i> (2009).</p><p> <i>Nyota appreciates subtleties, and Spock's run deep.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Contingency

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LJ [here.](http://femmenerd.livejournal.com/345542.html)

Spock tells her about his counterpart as a matter of information—perfunctorily, of course. But Nyota doesn't actually lay eyes upon the elder Spock for quite some time, not until being aboard the _Enterprise_ has become routine and Spock's quiet grief has mellowed somewhat. Once the frequency of the nightmares have declined to only one every week or so. 

As a general rule they don't touch while they sleep, don't cuddle or “spoon.” But she's content with the thickness of his presence, the steadiness of his breath. She prefers this to when he requires the comfort she's always willing to give, nevertheless. 

Nyota is not a selfish woman; she doesn't need to be needed. And she chose him because she knew he would always tell her the truth, though he is fully capable of lying. She chose him because he wanted her for the reasons she wanted to be wanted. Also, Nyota appreciates subtleties and Spock's run deep. She attempted to explain this to Gaila once when they were packing up the room they had shared as cadets. The words didn't come out right though—Nyota and Gaila never did speak the same language, figuratively speaking. Gaila asked cheekily if she had “teacher kink!”

“You are an extraordinary woman,” his aged incarnation tells her while _her_ Spock is fetching water to accompany their shared meal, a traditional Vulcan dish that she can pronounce but her taste-buds can't quite parse. The elderly Vulcan is looking at her intently, his head half-cocked in that familiar way, but with a differently inflected glimmer in his eyes. Nyota flushes hot and feels irritated with herself for blushing. She wonders if they were...if they _were_ in his timeline. 

When she doesn't respond immediately, he adds evenly, “I always held you in the highest esteem.” Past tense.

Nyota replies simply: “Thank you, Ambassador.” It sounds like she's talking to his father! Watching them tonight, if occurs to Nyota that perhaps Spock relates to this version of himself in the way he wishes he could with Sarek. Respectful, but. _Sympatico._

It's a strange thought; it aches in her heart. “Err...,” she articulates.

Spock smiles slightly, and she thinks she detects trace laugh-lines on the wrinkled mosaic of his face. Nyota blinks.

When Spock comes back bearing a pitcher filled with cool water, she listens to their metered repartee, marveling at the phonetic rhythms of a man talking to himself. It sounds almost like this other Spock is speaking a kind of harmony part to his younger self. She wonders for a brief second if her Spock will pick up a similarly altered cadence with age. Unlikely, Nyota decides. He will have—is having—a different life. 

She interrupts to tell them a portion of her thoughts, framed as a potential journal article about personal accents and biographical speech patterns. Both Spocks listen to her unwaveringly. 

“Fascinating.”

Nyota beams at them, feeling her cheeks stretch with her grin. 

*

They have relations later that night, she and Spock. 

There is no logic in sex—not if you're doing it right—but in her expert opinion Spock is eloquent in the way he makes love. Communicative. Direct. Nyota can live without dirty talk if it's like this. 

He has researched her erogenous zones, learned to read her carnally. So he knows tonight that she wants him to fuck her hard, but she helps—gripping his shoulders for leverage, her hips meeting his and grinding as he pushes her into the bed. She wants him to be as real as possible, here. She wants his cock to hit her deep in that way that's painful except when it's not.

Spock doesn't moan or groan this time, but he pants in her ear deliberately, making her wetter, messier—almost as hot to the touch as he is naturally. Nyota nips at his chest in reciprocation, but nowhere his uniform wouldn't cover the bruises, pale and green and secret. This is only for them.

She watches greedily when he comes, interpreting the contortions of his face until the tension gives and his body goes slack, reverting his features to their most peaceful state. 

This Nyota loves this Spock, as he is.

*

“I don't think we were lovers—in his world—but I am positive that we were friends.”

“That is entirely speculation.”

“Perhaps.”


End file.
